


The Gospel According to Gabriel

by Elthadriel



Category: Supernatural
Genre: Domestic Angels, Gen, Human Castiel, Human Gabriel, Human Lucifer, Human Michael, Human Raphael, Most character's only appear in later chapters, long fic
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2013-07-15
Updated: 2013-11-21
Packaged: 2017-12-20 05:42:09
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 6
Words: 12,163
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/883592
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Elthadriel/pseuds/Elthadriel
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Gabriel wakes up several years after his death and finds himself inconveniently human. With little choice but to make the best of the situation he ends up working in a cafe in a small town in Indiana.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. “Man is destined to die once, and after that to face judgement” (Hebrews 9:27)

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> My first fanfiction for SPN and the longest fic I've ever attempted so we'll see how that goes.
> 
> This chapter and the next were beta'd by my wonderful girlfriend but I find myself in need of a more permanent solution. If anyone is willing to beta for me, or knows were I might find one could you throw me an ask at my tumblr - elthadriel.tumblr.com? Thanks =D
> 
> Destiel won't make an appearance for a while and is not really the focus of this story. There will be other pairings when I can make up my mind.
> 
> Hope you enjoy it =D

"… But I know where your heart truly lies."

The knife entering Gabriel's gut was expected; he had never really believed his plan would work. He wondered in the second before the pain registered if his father would be proud of him for trying.

"Here."

It hurt more than he thought it would and found himself clutching at Lucifer's shoulder to keep himself upright. Lucifer's hand grasped his face and though he knew it was foolish, Gabriel took comfort from that. 

"Amateur hocus pocus." 

Gabriel whined and Lucifer's grip at his neck tightened, holding him through the pain.

"And don't forget, you learned all your tricks from me." 

There was something akin to regret in Lucifer's eyes. 

"Little brother."

Dying, as it turns out, is easy.


	2. Then God said, “Let us make man in our image” (Genesis 1:26)

Compared to the shock of actually being brought back, Gabriel suddenly finding he was powerless, graceless and undeniably human didn't really rank on the scale.

That didn't make the transition any easier.

His body screamed for air, huge, gasping lungfuls of it, but the cold air hurt his lungs. He tried to open his eyes, to at least know where he had woken up but this too presented a problem. His gaze was met by a burning white light, and he forced his eyes shut, water forming at the corners. Finally, he attempted to move but even the slightest twitch sent fiery bites of pain through his body. Gabriel had never realised how painful simply surviving could be for humans.

In the end he stopped attempting to move and found slower, shallower breaths were kinder to him. In response, his heart stopped its frantic pounding, reverting to something less audible. He wasn't sure how long he lay there after that.

Sleep took him. He didn't dream and for that he was grateful. 

When he woke everything seemed relatively easier; he could move without pain, albeit still with difficulty. His body felt absurdly heavy and he struggled to roll onto his side, which felt like an improvement over lying on his back. With his limbs sprawled around him, he had felt horribly exposed. He raised his head slightly and opened his eyes only to be met with the same problem as before. With his eyes once again squeezed shut, it was only after a few minutes he could muster the courage to try again.

The light bit with the same viciousness but he forced himself to endure it, squinting into the whiteness. He could only hope that it would become easier to see: he wasn't sure what he would do if it didn't.

The white slowly gave way and Gabriel could make out shapes as his eyes stopped watering. He felt blind in comparison to what he had once had but from what he remembered of his vessel's memories he could only assume this was normal. A wooden floor and tables with white tablecloths greeted his now adjusted eyes. Whatever charm they might once have had was marred by a thick layer of dust and a few small holes indicating some form of insect infestation. There was nothing that could have made Gabriel mistake this place however, though that brought him little comfort. He turned his gaze to the ground next to him and with trembling hands ran the tips of his fingers across the wooden floor burnt by his wings. This was the hotel were he had died; he really shouldn’t be surprised it was where he was raised too.

A thin layer of ash coated his fingers, the black dust all that was left of his once mighty wings, and it only heightened his feeling of loss. He rolled his shoulders and grimaced. Now that it had been brought to his attention the missing limbs were a constant nagging discomfort; the more he tried to ignore their absence the more they insisted to be missed. He rolled his shoulders again, despite the loss he could swear his wings itched but he had no way to soothe them.

He rubbed his dirtied fingers on his jeans in an attempt to wipe away the ash that clung to them.

In an attempt to distract himself, Gabriel forced himself to think on what his next move was to be; a subject he concluded was little better than the previous train of thought. He had nowhere to go, and anyone who might once have helped him was either dead or just as likely to run him through as they were to aid him upon finding out his new circumstances. The Winchesters briefly crossed his mind before he discarded the idea. He could only assume they had succeeded in averting the apocalypse since the state of the room indicated he had been dead for some time and the world was, rather obviously, still intact. Either they had used the method he had left them or found some other means, but even if he could remember one of their mobile numbers he had no way of knowing if they had forgiven him for tricks he had played on them. 

Resigning himself to somehow struggle through this alone Gabriel put step one of his currently one step master plan into action. Before he could do anything he needed to get up from the floor.

Standing was embarrassingly hard, which was made more frustrating by how easily he’d seen other humans do it. He’d never realised how much balance was required to do something so simple, nor had he suitably understood how much he relied on his grace; previously he hadn’t spared a second thought concern for standing, his Grace holding him upright with ease. 

After an attempt that ended with his face closer to the floor than he would have liked he crawled to the closest table and used it to help him up. It still took another failed attempt that ended with him collapsing back to the ground, the short fall hurting more than he felt it had any right to. The burst of pride after finally getting his feet under him was short lived however as he faced a new problem; with step one of his aforementioned master plan complete he was going to have to come up with step two.

He had no money, nowhere to go, no one to help him and for the first time in a millennia he couldn’t just click his fingers and will a solution into existence. He swore he could still see dirty marks from the remains of his wings on his fingers and he rubbed them more forcefully on his jeans. Then again, when he had first fled heaven it had felt like this, as though he had lost everything and he had made it work then. Heck, he had set himself up as a god using his cunning and intellect just as much as his angelic abilities. If he could survive the pagan gods he could surely survive humanity?

He examined the room, keeping his gaze from lingering on the burnt shadows of his wings. As far as he could tell, everything was the same as it had been when he died and the thought depressed him. He was aware that he had done much wrong in his life and it was likely that few, if any, had mourned his passing but nonetheless, his body lying here unacknowledged seemed like an unjust ending for an archangel, no matter how far he had strayed from heaven.

The Pagan Gods' had had some bags which was why he hadn’t noticed it at first but on his second sweep it caught his eye, though it took a moment from him to realise why. While the rest of the room was sporting a layer of dust the duffel bag looked as though it had been placed there recently.

Crossing the room without falling proved a challenge and only by using the tables and wall as support did Gabriel manage it. Unwilling to return to the ground Gabriel lifted the bag to the nearest table.

If he thought his vessel felt heavy without his grace it was nothing in comparison to this. He couldn’t recall the last time he had struggled to lift something but this, frankly not very big bag, caused him issues. While he had underestimated the weight on his first attempt on his second he overestimated it and almost ended up hitting himself in the face which would have been embarrassing even with no one to see.

It only took opening the bag to realise that whoever had brought him back must have left the bag here from him as well and he grinned.

“Thanks Dad.” He couldn’t be certain it was God but he was willing to hedge his bets, he couldn’t think of anyone else with the power to pull off resurrecting an archangel.

The bag contained his salvation; a folder with a birth certificate, naming him Gabriel Milton, a forty-two year old from Tennessee. Also there was a history of his education and employment, a Social Security Number, driving licence and everything else he might need to prove he was not only a real person but an American citizen. Apparently he had a criminal record, for a display of public nudity and Gabriel could only snort at that. It sounded like something he would do. 

Digging deeper in the bag he found a change of clothes, a small laptop, a mobile phone and other such items. A debit card with pin number attached and bank statement revealing he had been given $2000. Rummaging through the bottom of the bag he found three final items. A key attached to a key-ring with an address of what he could only assume was a place Dad had prepared for him was first and he read over the address several times, memorising it before returning the key to the bag. Second, a simple silver crucifix on a chain which Gabriel might have stuffed back in the bag, not fully ready to re-embrace Christianity if not for the wooden carving hanging next to it, of two snakes interweaving, a symbol used to represent him as Loki. More than ever Gabriel hoped that this was from his father, because placing the Christian Cross next to the Pagan symbol felt to Gabriel very much like he had been forgiven for his disobedience and his actions since leaving heaven.

He placed the chain around his neck and tucked it under his shirt, more willing to attempt to reconnect with Christianity if it meant he didn’t have to renounce his time as Loki among the Pagans.

The final gift made him laugh and for the first time in a long while, since the apocalypse started he actually thought the road ahead looked a little brighter. He was alive, despite all odds, his father hadn’t abandoned him, and after being courteous enough to raise him in the first place, his father had left him a strawberry flavoured lollypop.

He peeled off the wrapper, tucking it into his pocket before sticking the lolly into his mouth, sucking on it eagerly, emitting unnecessary noises of pleasure. Shifting the bag to his shoulder he pushed away from the table and took a few unsupported steps towards the door. It wasn’t the most graceful of movements but he didn’t fall and with each step he became a little steadier.

As he reached the door, a flash of sliver caught his eye.

His good spirits left him abruptly. Lying on the floor was an archangel’s blade, his blade; the blade Lucifer had killed him with. He let the bag fall to the floor, not sparing a thought for the contents he might damage and with more confidence he had so far achieved while moving his new body, he strode to the blade and crouched down next to it. 

He reached out but didn’t touch it, hand surprisingly steady. He hadn’t really thought about his death, being resurrected seemed so much more important but with the knife laying there it all came back. How Lucifer had held him, water gathering in the corner of his eyes but not falling. Lucifer hadn’t wanted to kill Gabriel, that much was clear, but the fact he had done so anyway caused a burning feeling of anger and betrayal to coil in his chest. He reminded himself that he had attacked Lucifer first, that his brother had only acted in self-defence. Before that idea could settle another part of him whispered that he had known it would never work, that he couldn’t get the jump on Lucifer and that the elder angel had known it too. Lucifer knew he was never in any danger and could have easily disarmed Gabriel without killing him and, if he were really so desperate to remove Gabriel as a threat, tuck him away in a pocket dimension until the conclusion of the apocalypse.

But Gabriel had already betrayed him by trying to attack him in the first place.

He stared at the blade, almost touching it, battling with himself to both defend Lucifer and condemn him until his leg cramped. After thirty seconds of believing he was in hell and wishing for death again the pain faded leaving an exasperated ex-angel sitting on the floor clutching his leg. Apparently sitting still hurt humans, who knew?

Getting back to his knees and collecting his bag Gabriel cast another look at his blade. He knew he was going to have to come to terms with what had occurred between him and his brother, and soon. However now was not the time, and the cramp had served to remind him of that. 

The knife was a painful reminder of how much had changed and how broken his family was but it was also a powerful weapon and likely his only chance if anything supernatural were to find him. It also felt wrong to just leave it lying there.

With a final hesitation, he shoved the blade into the bag.


	3. For we walk by faith, not by sight (2 Corinthians 5:7)

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This chapter hasn't been beta'd so please bring any errors to my attention. As before, hope you enjoy it and if you have any interest in betaing for me please throw me an ask on tumblr at elthadriel.tumblr.com

Much as Gabriel wanted to get away from the Elysian Fields Hotel he wasn’t foolish enough to take off without first searching for any resources he might be able to use. He didn’t expect to find much, he knew what many of the Pagans ate and even if it had survived the tests of time he wasn’t sure his human body would be able to digest it. He had seen films that had indicated cannibalism was a bad idea.

He did turn up some bottled water, and a can of coke under one of the bed as he searched one of the room however, which he tucked into his bag. There wasn’t much left in any of the rooms, likely the gods had striped the human rooms as they went and Kali and anyone else who had survived had cleared the others. This brought the image of Kali standing over his corpse to mind. They had loved each other once, or at least shared a mutual fascination, but he doubted she cared about him in the slightest; she had tried to kill him after all. She owed surviving Lucifer to him but she had saved his life, or thought she had, enough times that it was likely she didn’t think that was worthy of any recognition. 

His final stop involved raiding the till; still in tact even now. It took surprisingly little effort to get into and from that Gabriel concluded it had been summoned by one of gods less tech savvy than was preferred; they knew what it looked like and what it did but not how it did it, meaning it was kept sealed with magic. As the caster had likely been killed by Lucifer, or failed to maintain the spell, the till now opened without issue. 

There was more money then he’d hoped, almost $500 and he tucked some of the bills in to his pocket and stuffed the rest into the bag. He would need to get some kind of wallet but first he had to set about finding the address he had been left - Alexandria, Indiana. He was fairly certain he was already in Indiana so he could only assume that this address was near the hotel. Considering how well set up he’d been he was likely safe to assume that finding this address wouldn’t be hard.

At the very least he had mastered walking and the weight of the bag wasn’t so great now that he had adjusted to use his own muscles as opposed to relying on his grace. 

It was warm outside, or at least it wasn’t cold. He couldn’t be certain but it felt like summer. The sun was up but only giving off the pale light associated with early morning. He could have checked his new phone to determine the time but he hadn’t taken out it out of the bag and he wanted to get started. There was a single car parked in front of the hotel but it was locked and even if he could unlock it, or broke the window Gabriel wouldn’t know where to start with hot-wiring a car. Besides, the rust, and greenery growing on it indicated it had likely been there before he had died and therefore wasn’t intended for him; if Dad wanted him to have a car he would have left the keys in the bag.

Walking to the road, he loitered only a moment before shrugging and turning right. He had no idea where he was going and only hope luck was on his side. Considering he had been raised from the dead today it didn’t seem too presumptuous. Hoisting the bag a little higher he started to walk.

\---

He started well; the first hour went by without a more pressing problem than boredom. Gabriel had never really appreciated how long it took humans to get anywhere; when you could fly around the world in the blink of an eye one didn’t tend to take into account distances. He culled the boredom as best he could by a mixture of singing horribly catchy songs loudly enough to scare the wildlife and trying to rummage through what he had left of his vessels memories. This vessel was far from his first, he had flitted between many since fleeing heaven but he was Gabriel’s true vessel, and he hadn’t left it since he had received his consent. 

He wouldn’t say he was lonely without Laurence’s presence in his mind, tucked away in a dream where he was happy, content and not the host to a run away angel, but he did miss the man. They didn’t speak often but Laurence was what could only be described as a good man. He had many faults but his heart had always been in the right place and even after finding out Gabriel had been less than truthful when asking for permission to use the man’s body as a vessel had easily forgiven him and expressed no anger. Even if no one had mourned his death Laurence deserved to be mourned even if by rights he should have died almost a millennia prier.

They had met during the third crusade, during a particular dark point in Gabriel’s history. He tended to avoid Christianity whenever he could, not wishing to tempt fate or to have reminders of what he had once been. However, watching his father’s people, fight amongst each other had brought back unpleasant memories of the civil war and why he had fled heaven in the first place. In an act of defiance against father and his favourite creations, who had made the same mistakes as the “flawed” angels, he had started bringing “just desserts” to those involved in the conflict.

He had met Laurence on the edge of a battle, the name of which he had long since forgotten.

Being a twelfth century man his memories wouldn’t be much use in relation to the modern day but general survival he might be useful. However, as the man had not been brought back along with Gabriel he only had access to memories he had already looked through and could remember looking through. He was fortunate at he had spent so much time among humanity and had watched a lot of television he could use as reference. Additionally, he had read the minds of a lot of humans during his time among them meaning he had picked up skills from them he otherwise would have had to learn now, slowly and, heaven forbid, with effort. It meant when his body started to feel strange he could actually make guesses as to why; he doubted other angels would have been as fortunate.

Speaking of which…

There was a pressure on his lower gut, not pain so much as discomfort and he could feel all the muscles tense without his consent. It had been that way for a while but it had been something he could easily ignore. Now though, it was more insistent. He could work out with little difficulty what it meant. For the first few years of Gabriel’s occupation of Laurence’s body the man had been completely aware, as per their agreement, so the human could make sure Gabriel followed through on his promises, and the human talked… A lot… Almost as much as Gabriel himself. When he couldn’t talk aloud, Laurence chatted away in their shared headspace, telling stories, asking questions and giving advice. As they were in each other’s heads when Laurence told stories Gabriel got the full deal, sensations and all. This meant when Laurence complained about how without fail whenever he put on his full armour he needed to piss within the first ten minutes Gabriel understood exactly how that felt.

Humans had to pee, it was just something they did but that didn’t mean Gabriel didn’t pull a face when he surrendered to his bodies complaints and stepped off the road to face the greenery at the side of the road. He pulled himself out and wrinkled his noise as he watched as a stream of slightly yellow liquid splashed to the ground. Humans, he decided as he tucked himself back in and zipped up his fly, were disgusting creatures.

He stepped back onto the road and picking up “Gangnam Style” from were he’d left off he continued to wherever he was heading.

The second hour passed in a similar fashion albeit he walked more slowly and all Gabriel could think was that he would kill for Laurence’s cheerful commentary right now. 

As the third hour began his feet started to hurt.

His shoulder had started to ache a while back but he had swapped the back to the other shoulder and carried on. Now the other was showing signs of complaint and he hadn’t had enough time that moving back wouldn’t be just as bad. Gabriel wanted to curse humanity and their weaknesses but he remembered times when he had raced his brothers, flying faster and further than he thought possible until his wings ached and his grace complained. He had depleted his grace in other ways too, pushing even his vast limits until he’d almost collapsed. It was just unfortunate that human’s limits where so much easier to reach. He considered stopping but he wasn’t sure he would be able to convince himself to continue again and so far he had yet to see a driver on the road, he wasn’t sure if that was because it was so early or if this was just a very unused road; perhaps both.

He forced himself to trudge on, his good mood exhausted and left wondering if this wasn’t a second chance as he had suspected but instead some kind of punishment. If so, it was a good one; maybe his own work as the trickster was a waste of time when being human sucked this much already.

His phantom wings started to itch again and he continued to roll his shoulders trying to settle them but it only added to his frustration that it made no difference. Eventually he forced himself to stop trying to move them but focusing to keep his shoulders still while his body screamed at him to move them was almost as bad and it was only when the ache in his feet gave way to actual pain that he was distracted enough to forget about them.

He couldn’t actually remember if he had clicked the shoes he was wearing into existence or if he had bought them with money had clicked into existence and while the outcome was the same he hoped it was the later; that way he had someone else to blame. To be fair, the last time Gabriel had worn them he had been a nearly all power archangel moonlighting as a Pagan God and therefore uncomfortable shoes weren’t something he had to concern himself with but he swore they had felt like they he fit when he first set off. Now though, each step caused his right trainer to rub again the side of his small toe causing a disproportionate amount of pain and resulted in him limping to try and reduce the friction.

It didn’t work very well and for a moment he entertained the thought of removing his shoes but suddenly each small stone on the road looked like it was personally out to get him. Standing on them didn’t seem like it would be the most fun he had every had and considering his already aching feet and emerging blister risking adding to that pain wasn’t an appealing thought.

Distracting himself from his feet was a job made harder by the continuing pain in his shoulders and he found himself switching the bag’s side every few minutes and it was almost worth it for the moment of bliss when he removed it from an abused shoulder. Each step made him grimace and he became paranoid that the moister he could feel dampening his socks wasn’t just sweat but blood as well. Didn’t humans have anything better to do than leak liquids everywhere?

The next two hours passed like this though Gabriel would have sworn it felt like much longer. His left shoe started to rub in the same way as the right one hand, reducing his speed to a crawl and meaning calling it walking was far to generous; hobbling was far more accurate. The sun rose higher in the sky and the warmth, pleasant at first soon became an inconvenience. Even after he had stripped off his jacket, adding to the weight of his bag, he was sweating heavily, causing his shirt to stick to him, a sensation that in his current mood was enough to .he began picking markers in the road ahead, promising himself he would put on the clean shirt when he reached them but each time he got there he picked a new one, knowing now it was the only thing keeping him going. He would have taken the shirt off altogether but he was fearful of burning and of the bag’s straps rubbing bare skin. 

He had been walking for five hours and forty-five minutes when he finally stopped. He dropped his bag to the ground and held his arms out, staring up at the sky, ready to shout his frustration.

“Okay, very funny. I get it, give me what I deserve, make me suffer like I made your precious humans suffer. But I’m done; I’m not playing this game.” He wished he was more surprised when he was met only with silence. “What’s the plan then, watch me stumble about and fail? Teach me some big lesson so I can be more to your liking?” 

He was met with more silence.

“How am I supposed to get to this place when it appears to be on the other side of the damned state?” He hadn’t been angry with God for not answering in centuries and had stopped even trying soon after that. Now though, his silence seemed unbearable. 

“Fuck you Dad.” It was more a whisper than anything else. Clearly he was mistaken; he could barely remember heaven and had far clearly memories of his brothers than of God. He could barely picture his father’s face and suddenly his deep rooted ideas that God loved his children and had only left them for part of his plan seemed like a foolish idea. Maybe he had misremembered that time, twisting it into a more appealing idea.

His second crisis of faith was interrupted by the dull noise of a car engine from behind him and he turned to see a dirty silver ford driving towards him. Gabriel was never sure which side of the debate he fell on when it came to coincidences but this seemed to unlikely to be anything but the hand of god and to be honest it just seemed like God showering off. For a moment he could picture his father perfectly, wearing a slightly smug but fond smile, the kind he had often held whenever he had caught Gabriel out. The memory slipped as soon as he realised it was there and Gabriel numbly raised an arm, giving a thumbs up to the driver.

The car slowed and pulled over and it wasn’t until it completely stopped that Gabriel relaxed. He was near certain now that God was watching over him but a traitorous part of his mind, the part that had dutifully informed him that he deserved what Lucifer did to him and that God didn’t care about any of his children, certainly not the runaway coward, had been whispering that it maybe was a coincidence and that the car won’t stop.

The driver rolled down his window and looked at Gabriel for a moment, likely judging whether or not he looked like the axe wielding murderer type. The driver gave a huff of laughter before smiling widely, showing a set of white, but crooked teeth.

“Hey, you all right there? Ya need a lift someplace?”

Gabriel had to wonder what the reception would be if he tried to kiss the man.


	4. “But the Samaritan who was making the journey came upon him, and when he saw him was moved to pity.” (Luke 10:33)

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I have mixed feelings about this chapter, hope it isn't too all over the place. Still looking for a beta but I figure you all know the drill by now. 
> 
> Enjoy and please share any thoughts, critics or otherwise.

“I’m heading for Alexandria,” Gabriel had been to the Alexandrias in Greece and Egypt and while he felt this one was unlikely to be nearly as impressive, at this moment it felt like Holy Grail; which, as it happened was located in the bottom of lake in Switzerland. That had been a hell of a weekend.

The driver’s smile turned sympathetic, “I don’t know what to tell ya mate, but yer headin’ the wrong way.”

“I’m going- Of course.” The only thing stopping Gabriel from screaming in frustration was the concern he would scare off the man who might be offering him a lift. More of his frustration must have been displayed on his face than he intended however as a the driver’s expression turned soft and when he spoke again it was reassuringly, as though he was afraid Gabriel might be about to have a breakdown.

Heck, maybe Gabriel was about to have a breakdown.

“I’m not goin’ back that way but I can swing passed Muncie and drop ya off at the bus station. It’s only ‘bout forty minutes by bus,” he carried on as though he thought Gabriel might refuse the offer, despite the fact he had been the one to indicate he wanted to hitchhike and was still wondering how hard it would be to make this man a saint without his powers, “Cause even if ya turn round now it’ll take hefty ‘mount of time to reach Alexandria. Six, seven hours or so.”

The thought of walking for another six hours of walking made Gabriel’s knees feel a little weak and the ex-angel paled a little.

“I take it yer acceptin’ the offer of a lift then?” The man’s smile hadn’t faded in the slightest and it would have been disconcerting if not the genuine note in his eyes which Gabriel knew from experience was hard to fake.

“Yes, thank you.” The thanks was added more as an afterthought and Gabriel hoped it didn’t come off as bitter, though he was, if only a little. He hadn’t had to thank anyone in a millennia and it was a needling reminder of how far he had fallen. Alternatively, the fact that he had become the kind of person that a simple “thank you” damaged his pride was concerning. Loki had meant to be a mask to hide his true identity; he had never intended to become him. 

“Just one second.” He turned from the driver and bent down to his bag, pulling the clean shirt out of it. He striped off the sweaty material that had caused him so much grief, balling it up into a corner of his bag before slipping on the t-shirt. It wasn’t perfect, sweat still clung to his skin and a shower, previously just a fun place to have sex, now seemed like his own personal heaven, but nether the less it was a significant improvement.

“Yeah, it’s not much fun to be out in this heat.” The man’s smile had slipped a little but only into a more maintainable quirk of the lips as opposed to a full grin, “You put some sun cream on? Looks like you might have gotten yerself a little burnt.”

Laurence had been sunburnt when they’d met; the cruel sun that blazed down on The Holy Lands was not kind to an Englishman’s pale skin. The red, pealing skin had hurt like no one’s business according to Laurence and the man had gone on about it for days after Gabriel had removed all evidence of it ever being there. It was not an incident he was keen to experience first hand and he could only hope this man was wrong.

The driver was a little like Laurence now he thought about it, albeit a good decade older. With his easy smile and constant chatter and didn’t seem perturbed by Gabriel’s uncharacteristic silence for which he was grateful; he needed something to fill the silence without having to return the conversation. He was, after all, still having the biggest crises of his life, fleeing heaven not withstanding. 

Gabriel realised he had taken to long to answer when the man nodded at his bag, “Want to stick that bag in the trunk?” Gabriel was loathed to be parted from the bag and some of his reluctance must have shown in face as the man carried on without his smile fading, seeming unoffended by Gabriel’s concern, “Or you can stick it at yer feet if ye’d rather.”

“I’ll keep it at my feet,” Gabriel felt he should have thanked him again but the moment had passed and he walked around the car, climbing into the passenger seat. He didn’t put the bag at his feet but instead kept it on his lap, still gripping the strap. He didn’t distrust the driver, Gabriel had had a lot of experience with douchebags of many different levels, ranging from “cheating their partners” to “drugs and rapes young girls” and this guy didn’t have the vibe. Probably helped his elderly neighbours mow their grass. However, he was still paranoid that he would somehow loose the bag and was determined to keep a hold of it.

“I’m Tommy by the way” Tommy glanced at him before checking over his shoulder and pulling away from the side of the road.

“Gabriel.” The name still felt odd on his tongue, he’d been Loki for so long, but he figured he should get used to it again and besides, it was his name. He had created Loki but Gabriel had been given to him by God and that alone gave it power.

“Like the Angel? Not too religious myself but my wife is so I’m at church most Sundays, he is mentioned every now an’ then, normally at Christmas.” Tommy had no way of knowing it was a sore spot so Gabriel was careful to keep his tone light.

“Yeah, like the Angel. My dad was very religious and apparently needed the whole world to know it.” It wasn’t that funny but Gabriel found himself smirking nonetheless, mostly as he had reason to suspect God was listening to him. It was also the kind of comment that would have had Michael, with his odd sense of humour, biting back a smile, trying to cling to his stoic persona. He had smiled very little towards the end even as Gabriel tried harder and harder to make him.

“Not a bad name though, suits you too.” Tommy took his eyes off the road long enough to glace sideways at Gabriel. 

“Are you saying I look like an Angel?” He laughed slightly, enjoying the joke at the other man’s expense, more so as Tommy was good-natured enough to laugh with him, despite without the required context it reading more like a bad come-on.

“You’re welcome to take it that way if it suits ya,” Gabriel didn’t notice until much later that he never did explain what he had meant.

Gabriel snorted again, but said nothing.

Gabriel’s stomach growled. His face in the moment it took him to school his features must have been priceless, an odd mix of disbelief, confusion and affront, only made worse by Tommy’s bark of laughter.

“Guess ya forgot to eat while you were wonderin’ about.” He threw a quick glance to the back seat, “If ya haven’t got yer own food there’s some chips on the back seat, can’t offer you anythin’ better I’m afraid.” 

Gabriel reached back rather sheepishly; he’d forgotten how regularly humans needed to eat and how their bodies informed them with were ignoring their needs. It was less disgusting than peeing at least, if not down right pleasant. It wasn’t the best flavour he had come across and might have put them down if he were not worried his body would make that noise again but the relief they gave him was worth the weird taste and he munched contentedly on the snack. 

“How’d you end up out here anyway? Seems a little off the track is all I’m sayin’.” It was Tommy who broke the silence again, this time keeping his eyes on the road. Other cars had started to appear as they had turned off the single-track road, onto a wider one.

“My dear brother,” Gabriel was an expert liar and it was a well known fact the best lies had roots in the truth. Going off Tommy’s questioning look he continued, more than happy to exercise one of the few things being human couldn’t take away from him, his charisma. “He was giving me a ride and we had something of a disagreement. I mean I love him but he’s an ass at times. He kicked me out of the car. I barely had time to grab my bag.”

“Don’t you got no-one you can call?”

That one nearly stumped him, nearly, “My phone is still in his car, forgot to grab it.”

“Don’t like to speak ill of other people’s family but yer brother sounds like a dick,” Tommy said matter-of-factly.

“Great big bag of them,” Gabriel smiled again, realising his smiles were more genuine that he was used to. He wasn’t thrilled with being human, but it felt like a lot of pressure had been removed; there was a lot he could stop worrying about. Furthermore, the look of indignation on Lucifer’s face when Gabriel had called him that was still funny and he hadn’t had time to laugh about it at the time. “I would agree with you there, but he’s my brother, what can you do? I love the bastard.”

Saying it aloud made it clearer, he did still love him, he still loved all his brothers, that was half the problem. It would be easy just to be angry at Lucifer, not just for the recent knife through Gabriel’s heart incident, but also for everything else. However, just as clearly as he could recall the damage Lucifer had done to his family he could recall the times they had still been a family, not just four individuals pretending they weren’t all on the verge of falling apart.

Gabriel had never expected, nor would have asked Lucifer to toe the line despite disagreeing, that wasn’t how he was made, but he could have fought back without breaking his brothers’ hearts. Gabriel would never be able to forget the sight of Michael crying just after he cast Lucifer from heaven; he felt like a coward but Gabriel was glad he hadn’t had to see the effect locking Lucifer in the cage had had. Part of him would never be able to forgive Lucifer for that, holding it against him perhaps even more than killing Gabriel. Whether Michael should have stood by Lucifer or God was irrelevant, Lucifer’s actions had brought Michael, strong, proud, loving Michael, to tears doing irreparable damage to the eldest archangel and that more than anything had broken Gabriel’s heart. It shattered his unwavering faith in Michael, he would never be able to forget that this was a problem that Michael had been unable to fix no matter how much he might have wanted to.

Despite that, his clearest memories of Lucifer were all good ones. He and Gabriel had caused havoc in the early days, Lucifer teaching him how to prank Michael and Raphael and more importantly how to avoid getting caught. God knew of course, giving them barely concealed smiles even as he reprimanded them. Michael had been the one to teach him to fly but it was Lucifer who really pushed him; racing him across the sky and pulling seemingly impossible stunts with arrogant ease before pulling back and showing Gabriel how to do them too.

So despite everything he loved Lucifer as much as he has always done, he just wasn’t sure there was a way he could ever trust him enough to act like it again.

“You’re taking it better than most, bein’ ditched by yer brother?” Tommy phrased it as a question, giving Gabriel a chance to talk about it further if he wanted while still leaving him a place to shut down the conversation if he so desired. He only took a moment to consider it. 

“It’s not the first time he’s pulled a stunt like this, and I’m not much better myself. Besides, I shouldn’t have wound him up.” Talking about it helped, especially with a seemingly sympathetic ear willing to listen to him. Besides, talking about familiar topics such as family, be it his real one in heaven or his adopted one among the Pagans, was better than thoughts on the future. Who would he be after all if he didn’t run from difficult subjects?

“Hmmm?”

“My family have had some rough patches resulting in him not being in contact with most of us for some time and I may have implied” – stated, in rather patronising terms – “that I felt he was overreacting.” He gave a rueful smile, “He didn’t take it well.”

Tommy laughed and this time it was Gabriel who felt out of the loop, “I suspect you said a lot more than that.” He continued off Gabriel’s look, “Ya just seem the type, bet ya gave ‘im an earful?”

“I always was the talkative one, had a way with words. Means I know exactly how to get under people’s skin. He deserved it anyway, was being something of a dick to my friends and one of our cousins.” Poor Cassie, Gabriel couldn’t imagine standing with the Winchesters had ended well for him. Cas had always been a strange one but Gabriel hadn’t imagined him rebelling against heaven even if it was to do the right thing; then, a lot had changed since he fled heaven. 

“Sounds like he has something of an attitude problem?” Tommy declared. He turned the car off the highway heading into the city that must be Muncie which was quite in a way that suggested that rush hour had ended but it was still too early for many who weren’t working to be out and about. He had been so relieved at the lift that it hadn’t occurred to him to check the time and he lent across to read it off the display – 10:04. It felt later, but then again it felt like he had been walking for days; his time keeping shot to hell now he wasn’t aware of the exact location of the sun just as surely as he knew he his own location.

Tommy was looking at him expectantly and again Gabriel realised he had been quiet too long’ he couldn’t think as quickly as he used to, and he gave an awkward cough.

“Sorry, what did you say,” He said self-consciously.

“That your brother sounds like he has an attitude problem.” Tommy answered easily, though Gabriel’s inner-voice was muttering that the man probably thought he was an idiot.

“You could say that again. Attitude problem, anger management issues, narcissistic personality disorder, ego as big as North America but as fragile as wet paper, I could go on but you get the picture.” Bitching really shouldn’t feel as good as it did.

“How come he offered you a lift then?”

“As I said, he doesn’t communicate with our family much, but I cut contact with them a little after he did so I think he was hoping I would side with him. Also, I think he was lonely; even if I didn’t come down on his side I think he was grateful for the contact.” His own loneliness in the first centaury had been almost overwhelming before he had remodelled himself as a pagan and made a new family from them. Left alone in the cage and now surrounded only by demons Gabriel couldn’t even begin to think how alone Lucifer felt. It made him wish he had at least given him a hug before calling him a dick and trying to kill him.

“Well here we go.” Tommy’s voice jolted Gabriel from his thoughts and he blinked stupidly at the man a couple of times before realising they had stopped in a small car park.

“Thank you,” He unbuckled his seatbelt and climbed from the car, wincing at the stiffness of his muscles and pain in his feet despite their short reprieve, “Seriously, thank you, I’m not sure what I would have done without you.”

“It was my pleasure. I hope you and yer difficult brother manage to sort it out.” Tommy looked so sincere that Gabriel couldn’t bring himself to inform him that it was far too late for that.

“Me too,” He responded instead, at least knowing he was honest in that, even if it was impossible.

He made to shut the door before Tommy called out to him again, “Gabriel, take my cell number. Give me a call when you get where yer goin’ of if ya run into trouble. Also,” He into the back of car and threw Gabriel another packet of chips, “Get yerself somethin’ to eat.”

Gabriel nodded mutely, hoisting his bag back onto his shoulder and giving a mock salute to Tommy before turning away and heading towards the bus station.

He heard the rev of Tommy’s car and when he glanced back he saw it turning a corner and moving out of sight. He refused to be nervous about the next part of his journey; how hard could public transport be anyway?


	5. The heart of man plans his way, but the lord establishes his steps (Proverbs 16:9)

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Just a short chapter this time round as in my chapter notes this was originally this was originally part of chapter 4 but it got rather long.
> 
> Also, I felt I should mention that I had all this planned out long before even hints of season 9 started being released so unless I can work around what they do I'm going to go off on my own canon entirely when I eventually get to season 9 (A long, long time from now). For example, as it currently stands, in this fic the fallen angels will not retain any of their powers and will be more or less human.
> 
> Hope you like this chapter, still not beta'd so please point out any mistakes.

The woman stared down her long nose at Gabriel with enough disgust that Gabriel felt it could only be justified if he had walked up to her desk and thrown up on her.

“No Sir,” Gabriel was actually impressed with how much sarcasm and disgust she managed to attach to the title, “I don’t know which stand your bus will be at. It will come up on the board just like all the others.” Gabriel opened his mouth, “You will know it is the right one because it will have the letter M followed by the number 9 on the front of it, which is why it’s called the M9 bus.” Gabriel closed his mouth, thought for a second and opened it again, “It will also have the final destination on it which is on the timetable I handed you at the beginning when you asked for the next bus to Alexandria.” She didn’t even give him a chance this time, “No it’s not the board now, it should appear there about half an hour before it arrives which, as is clearly stated on your timetable, is two hours and seven minutes from now.” She adjusted her glasses, lips pursed. “Now, have you got all of that or would you care to waste another twenty minutes explaining something that’s clearly written on the timetable?” There was a lengthy pause, “Sir.”

“No ma’am, thank you,” He mumbled, more out of fear of what she would do if he didn’t than anything else. He slunk away, gripping his precious timetable, to the closest seats out of her range of slight and sank into it, feeling more ashamed than comforted by the fact he had stolen her pen when she wasn’t looking in retaliation. Previously he would have concocted a far more fitting punishment for her but he didn’t have much choice. He thought briefly about complaining to a manager but that seemed too much like admitting defeat and even if the manager wasn’t scared stiff of her too there was a chance he’d have to face her again and he wasn’t ready for that.

Why hadn’t Dad chosen someone like that to stop the apocalypse instead of leaving it up to Sam, Dean and any other suckers – read: Gabriel - they could guilt into helping them? She would have given Mike and Luce one disappointed look and they would have kissed and made up out of shear terror.

One hand still tight on his bag he opened the timetable and checked everything she had said; he had known it all when he’d asked but was worried he would somehow mess it up. He really wasn’t sure how humans dealt with this uncertainty every day or, more importantly, how he was going to deal with it everyday until his father decided he had learnt whatever lesson was being taught here, whatever that might be.

It was only sitting there he realised how tired he was and he struggled to remain awake concerned not only with missing his bus but also with leaving his bag virtually unguarded. To help him remain awake and to satisfy his body he went on a search for food and returned with a BLT sandwich and a coffee which he had shamelessly added six spoons of sugar even as the server had watched in horror. The sandwich, like the crisps were better for him being hungry but he found he liked it more if he removed the lettuce and tomato and ate them separately to the bacon and bread which he did despite it meaning he ended up with mayonnaise all over his fingers. He licked his fingers clean rather than going back to the toilets he had visited when he first arrived. They had been covered with grim that looked like it had been there from before humanity had invented the wheel and the smell had been enough to make him gag; Pissing in the woods had been preferable to that and there was nothing that would willingly make him return to them.

While the highly sugared coffee did help stave off sleep it also made him jumpy and he clutched his bag closer every time anyone passed near him. He also started jiggling his foot in a way that clearly annoyed the woman sitting at the other end of the row of seats but that he couldn’t bring himself to stop.

After finishing his sandwich he was disappointed to note that he still had well over an hour and a half until his bus left and, as it turned out, patience was not one of his virtues. He couldn’t remember the last time he had been forced to wait for anything. 

He’d seen a bookshop when he went on his hunt for food but he was trying to resist spending money if he could help it. The sandwich had cost far more than he felt it should and he had no idea what he was going to do for money in the future. That mentality lasted for ten minutes and what felt like fifty separate occasions of him checking of the time. He was sure time passed quicker than this normally; if he ever got his grace back he would have strong words with Chronos.

He moved a little more cash from his bag to his pocket, enough he hoped for a bus ticket and for a book. He’d always read lot even as humanity had moved more and more towards film and television, which he had also loved, but he could appreciate books and had continued to read them.

He ignored the non-fiction novels, he needed an escape from reality, not a reminder of it, and was also careful to avoid anything he felt would have more than a little angst or any religious connotations. He had always enjoyed novels such as Paradise Lost and Good Omens, finding twisted amusement in humans’ attempts to understand the heavens, some of which he was sure had some divine influences as they came startlingly close to the truth. But just like he avoided these novels when he was feeling any form of homesickness or loneliness he avoided them now. He didn’t want to hear about heaven or his brothers, no matter now fictionalised the stories might be.

In the end Gabriel grabbed a copy of something almost certainly intended for girls just about to hit their teens. Its pastel colours and cartoon dragon on the front seemed safe enough and he really didn’t want anything intellectually engaging. He didn’t make eye contact with the cashier look enough to know if she was judging him or not, likely not, assuming he was buying this for a daughter or niece. 

He felt slightly more equipped to deal with the boredom as he settled back into his chair; arm looped through the straps of his bag and opened the book. It only took him a page to confirm it was might for children of about eleven or twelve but it was an easy distraction and the simple, feel good story was oddly satisfying and he found himself getting invested in the story.

With his powers intact he would have gotten through the book in moments but when he risked a quick glance at the clock Gabriel found almost fifty minutes had passed and he was only just over a hundred pages in, leaving more than three quarters of the book to go. He was glad of that at least, it meant reading would be a good time sink and certainly helped with the passing of time. Still with just short of an hour to go until his bus arrived he returned his attention to the book.

\---

“Honey,” He almost flinched when he raised his gaze sharply from his book to see the woman from the desk towering over him. She gave a disarming smile, “That’s your bus there at Stand 11” 

Gabriel gaped.

“You looked like someone had kicked your puppy when you left and after all that I’d hate for you to miss your bus anyway,” she said as though that explained her shift in personality. Humans, and their emotions, Gabriel decided, were impossible.

“Thank you,” He said around a yawn, pausing only to stick the book away, before he stood up, still with a death grip on his bag and timetable though now with the addition to the routine of checking his pocket for his cash every ten to twenty seconds.

She nodded in acknowledgement and started walking away, smart shoes clicking sharply on the tiled flooring.

“Oh,” She half turned back but didn’t break stride, “You can keep the pen.”

Gabriel had changed his mind, he wouldn’t punish this women if he had his powers, he’s introduce her to Kali and run; get a shmuck like Baldur to film it. Kali would have the upper hand what with being a god, but that was nothing a click of Gabriel’s fingers wouldn’t have been able to fix. He suspected the result would have been more impressive than the apocalypse any day.

In direct contrast to the women at the desk the bus driver was smiley and pleasant, willing to confirm that this was the right bus and that Alexandria was the second stop without any glaring or belittling. Gabriel went towards the back of the bus, pleased that it was quiet enough that he wouldn’t have to sit next to anyone; he’d had his fill of humanity for that day. 

Again he kept his bag on his lap but he sank low in his chair, arse almost hanging off, knees pressed again the chair in front. His eyelids felt heavy and he knew he was on the verge of sleep much as he tried to fight it. He should sit up straight he thought, he shouldn’t rest his head against the window, and he definitely shouldn’t let his eyes close.

He jerked slightly as the girl who had got onto the bus after him, a tall Hispanic girl in her late teens, slid into the chair across the aisle, talking loudly into her phone. She made eye-contact with Gabriel and mouthed “sorry”, before lowering her voice and turning away, leaving Gabriel to sink back to a position which really should have been too uncomfortable to sleep in but Gabriel was beyond caring. Despite his paranoia about missing his stop and with the now soothing Spanish chatter in the background Gabriel drifted into sleep.


	6. The righteous keep moving forward, and those with clean hands become stronger and stronger (Job 17:9)

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I had this almost done maybe a a week after the last chapter and then the final 200 or so mocked me for a month. It was bad.
> 
> Still no beta - I think I'm just going to kidnap one at this stage. Seriously, where do you find them? - so please point out any embarrassing mistakes.
> 
> Also, Bqllr is a Norse swear meaning penis. At least that is what the internet lead me to believe.

“Bqllr!” Gabriel yelped and jerked away from the figure bending over him at the same time she stumbled backwards, colliding with the other aisle of seats, hands raised in surrender.

“Whoa, sorry man.” 

He blinked blearily up at her for a moment, trying to work out where he knew her from, where the hell he was, and why he felt like someone had just used a banishing seal on his ass. 

“It’s just,” She gestured vaguely in the direction of the front of the bus – oh that’s right, he was on a bus. Why was he on a bus? – with a hand, still keeping both of them semi-raised, “I heard you say you wanted Alexandria. And, well, this is it. Thought you would appreciate being woken. I didn’t know you were so out of it.”

Gabriel rubbed at his face hoping that would clearly his head slightly and bit by bit his memory pieced itself back together. Sleeping, Gabriel decided was fine, one of the better things about being human actually, waking up on the other hand sucked balls. He pulled himself up right, which got a glowing smile from the girl whom he now recognised as the same one who had been sitting across the aisle from him, the one with the phone, and he followed her off the bus, bag once again over his shoulder. His neck and back were stiff he noted as he trudged forward but it was a more bearable ache than the one in his feet and legs. He mumbled a thanks to the bus driver but it lacked the same enthusiasm that the girl’s own expression of gratitude contained.

The drop from the bottom step to the ground was larger than he’d thought and his foot thumped onto the tarmac, sending unpleasant vibrations up his leg. He shuffled away from the bus and looked around. He wasn’t sure what he was expecting but the down was very ordinary. It was smaller than he had expected and based on his experiences that morning he reckoned it would only take him twenty minutes to walk across. It was typical of an American town right down to the architecture and street names. There were likely hundreds of other near identical small towns all across Indiana. Gabriel would be worried that this would bore him but he couldn’t help but be aware of how new this would all be to him. It might be smaller than was used to but so was he. Besides, it wasn’t like humans didn’t travel; he’d make it work.

The girl who had woken him was currently wrapped up in the arms of a boy slightly shorter than she was and therefore, a couple of inches taller than Gabriel. She was talking to him in quick, enthusiastic Spanish while her boyfriend grinned at her, hanging on every word.

A lesser man might have felt awkward in interrupting but Gabriel a) refused to feel awkward on principle and b) was tired, sore and had no desire to wander around until he stumbled upon the address.

“I don’t suppose you know where I can find 127 South Harrison Street?” His voice was groggy and his throat and mouth felt strange. Overall he just had the overwhelming desire to go back to sleep. 

“Hmmm?” The girl broke away from her partner but kept a grip on his hand as she moved a little closer to Gabriel, “Yeah, it’s not that far from here… Nothing in Alexandria is very far from here. Are you Peter’s new tenant?” She spoke a mile a minute and her expression and tone suggested that she was trilled not only to help but simply to be alive.

“I… Maybe?” The question threw him, he had no idea and he was now wary of her knowing, “What made you ask.”

“Olivia, tone it down a touch,” The boy chuckled softly nudging Olivia with a fond roll of his eyes.

Her grin slipped minutely from “meeting you is better than meeting Christ” to “Do you want to be my best friend and make friendship bracelets”.

“My Dad was a mechanic and growing up he used to take me with him when I wasn’t in school. I know pretty much everyone in town. You’ll find that with a lot of people here. But yeah, you’re looking for the house he rents out and he mentioned you were meant to be arriving at some point this week so I put two and two together. Also, I mean-”

“Olivia,” Her boyfriend removed his hand from hers and replaced it around her waist.

“Okay, fine.” She poked him playful in the side and Gabriel bit back a smile, amused by their antics, “If you head down there until you hit 8th street then go left and along a little. It’s just after Wayne Street. Happy?” She pressed a kiss to her partner’s check.

“Thanks.” It felt a rather reserved when faced with her boundless enthusiasm but he wasn’t certain what else he could say. It wasn’t like he still had the ability to make certain they received good fortune anymore.

“No problem. I’m sure we’ll see you around.” Olivia spun on her heal and bounced away, dragging her unresisting partner with her. As Gabriel turned he could hear her high pitch laugh mingle with his lower chuckle.

He really didn’t want to have to walk again. His shoes still rubbed uncomfortably at the back of his heal and small toe and in response he was practically limping. However, the promise of somewhere to sleep and a shower was enough to spur him into action. 

The first street he came to was 5th street which meant he was much closer to where he needed to be than he felt. By the end of the three blocks his pace had been reduced to little more than a crawl and he found he had started to roll his shoulders again. More than once he tried to shift his wings, certain he could feel them, being left frustrated at their lack of response.

He came to a stop in front of a small one story house which, despite having seen better days looks well cared for and while Gabriel had certainly stayed in better he’d also stayed in worse, some of the things that passed for houses in medieval times making him shudder.

He stumbled up to the door, releasing his grip on his bag for what felt like the first time since picking it up. It fell to the ground with a muffled thud and he couldn’t even bring himself to be concerned about the contents. 

“Gabriel?” A voice called out from behind him, and resisting the urge to bang his head off the door he turned to see a round man jog across the road towards him, “You are Gabriel right? I’m Peter.”

Gabriel nodded, mutely taking Peter’s hand when it was offered to him when Peter puffed to a stop in front of him.

“It’s good to meet you; I’m the owner of the property. I spoke with your friend and we got most of it all sorted but it’s nice to meet you in person. I hope you -” In contrast to Olivia he spoke slowly and with a drawl that seemed to belong further south than Indiana. “ - not a big property, but it should be more than enough for you- ” In likeness to Olivia, he seemed to have a lot to say. “- If you have any problems at all you can of course- ”

“Can we do this later?” Gabriel interrupted. He was being rude and he couldn’t bring himself to care. He didn’t have it in him to smile, provide a witty comment and a suggestive wink. He was certain he had never wanted anything more than he wanted to sleep now. It was only when Peter’s smile was replaced with a frown and Gabriel remembered he would have to deal with this man for an unspecified amount of time that he tried to repair the damage his lack of patience had already caused. “I’m sorry, it’s been a long day and I haven’t slept. Could this talk wait until I’m capable of holding a conversation?”

Peter’s smile didn’t return but he did look more understanding, “Of course, how rude of me. We can talk about it this evening or tomorrow. If there’s anything you need before then just give me a call or pop over. My number is on the paperwork you need to sign, your friend already filled it in but you should look it over, and that’s on the table in the living room.”

Gabriel forced himself to smile and raise a hand in farewell before returning to the door, unlocking it and practically falling into the house. He closed the door behind him but it didn’t cross his mind to lock it. He even left his bag lying in the middle of the hall, all previous care for it abandoned as he searched for the shower; the sooner he had rubbed off the layer of sweat and grime he had picked up the sooner he could sleep.

There were three doors coming off the hall that he could see but it turned at the end so there were likely more he couldn’t see. The first on the left opened onto a simple living room with little more than a small television, couch, armchair and coffee table. Only the rug, with an obnoxious sixties style print caught his eye; despite its assaulting bright colours, he liked it. The door directly opposite led to an equally minimalist kitchen. In stead of a table there was a hollow space under part of the counter with a chair tucked under it that resembled a barstool more than a kitchen chair. The door directly opposite the entrance turned out to be a bedroom and while Gabriel was tempted to just abandon the shower in favour of collapsing into bed he reluctantly moved away. His new view of the corridor revealed two final doors, one which led to a garden that he had no interest in at that moment, meaning the other was, mercifully, the bathroom.

It was as small as he had expected barely big enough to contain the toilet and sink crammed into it. The architect hadn’t even tried to fit in a separate shower and had instead made it a wet room with only a flimsy plastic curtain to stop the water going everywhere.

In his current state, it looked like heaven. He stripped off his shirt indigently dumping it in the corner but he took more care with his shoes. He sat on the toilet lid and with a wince gingerly removed his right shoe. He had been right about the blood but it wasn’t as terrible as he had believed while walking. His sock was stained with blood at his heel and small toe but only slightly. Peeling off his sock, hissing as the fibres caught at the raw skin he found his foot looking battered and tender but the pain was significantly more bearable now his shoe was off. His left foot told a similar story and while poking at the enflamed skin – not one of his better ideas – stung as long as he left them alone they seemed fine.

Confident he wasn’t going to have to have his feet amputated he striped off the remainder of his clothes and stepped into the shower.

The cold water that hit him first made him flinch but he was expecting it and didn’t pull away; he’d seen enough comedy films to know showers needed time to heat the water up. He kept the temperature fairly low and bit back pornographic noises. It felt incredible. All the aches in his muscles stopped complaining and even though the water stung his feet to start with even that passed. If he ever got his powers back Gabriel decided he would hunt down the man who invented the shower and make sure he was eternally blessed. Hell, he would even personally give the man a blowjob as a bonus.

He just stood and enjoyed the water for a while.

When he started making an attempt at cleaning himself it was more because he felt he should than he had any desire to; now he was in the shower his other desires seemed less pressing. This effort was brought to a swift end as his fingers found a mark he didn’t recognise on his upper abdomen. A clean white scar, only an inch or so long ran vertically down, starting a little below his ribs. It didn’t take a genius to work out how he’d got it; it was a reminder of his adventure with Lucifer and the knife still tucked away in his bag.

Oddly, despite how he had got it, Gabriel liked it. Laurence’s body had many scars, most of which he had chosen to leave rather than heal, but none of the scraps Gabriel had ever got himself into had ever left a mark. This scar though was his and it made him feel more attached to the vessel, like his ownership was shown in that scar.

He had no shampoo or soap but he rubbed some of the grim and sweat from his body though in his weariness he couldn’t really enjoy it. The water itself was pleasant but his mind was drifting and he was having difficulty keeping it on task. Despite standing his eyes kept attempting to close and his head dropped, only for him to be jerked awake each time gravity tried to grab him. 

Only this increasing desire to sleep convinced him to leave the shower and he almost immediately wished he hadn’t as all the snags to his plan became apparent. He didn’t own any towels and while he might have considered using his shirt it was soaked through were he had left it on the floor. Reduced to squeezing as much of the watch from his hair as possible and trusting the rest of him to dry in its own time he faced a new problem he had no bedding of any kind and no energy to go buy some; that was a trip for another day.

He stumbled, naked and dripping, back down the hallway, collecting his bag and moving to the living room. The couch had pillows and that seems more welcoming than the empty bed.

His head was foggy and his body heavy and Gabriel gave up trying to come up with a graceful solution. He pulled on his last clean set of clothes and collapsed on the sofa. He curled up under his jacket, knees tucked against his chest and arms wrapped around him, hands warm in his armpits.

Sleep took a little longer to come than on the bus, sods law dictating that now he wasn’t fighting sleep his body refused. He shivered slightly, despite the summer warmth and pulled himself into a tighter ball.

When sleep finally came it was not as blissfully dreamless.


End file.
